Captain Cat Morgan
by Mirah the Mad Catter
Summary: In 'Against All Odds', Plato's boat sinks in a storm and he washes up on a beach. Taking place before he washes up on the island, Plato gets 'saved' by Captain Cat Morgan. With a "Pirates of the Carribean" twist to it.


(Captain) Cat Morgan 

Summary: Encompasses Plato's boat ride to the tiny island after the sinking of his fishing boat in the carribean. Hilarious, with a "Pirates of the Carribean" twist. Think Jack Sparrow in cat form!

Author's Note: If you haven't read 'Against All Odds', then you won't have the foggiest idea what I'm talking about 'ere. Read the fic, then come back to this 'un. 

--------------------------

The air stunk, stank, reeked, and just smelled really, really bad. Plato coughed as he came to, finding himself smack dab in the middle of a bustling ship. Toms of all colors and sizes, and each filthier than the last, made their way to and fro on the deck, each with their own tasks. There was only one queen, and she sat up in the crow's nest scowling out at the horizon. Plato groaned and rubbed his swimming head. 

"Oy, 'e's awake at last." 

The voice came from behind Plato and he jumped to his feet and spun around to see a rough looking tomcat grinning at him, leaning on the railing of the ship's side. Plato stared. Where in God's name was he? 

"Yer on the 'Billy McCaw', if ya wanta know." the tom said, grinning at the confusion on Plato's face. "You've heard the ballad, no doubt. Well sir, this 'ere's the ship. And the parrot up thar..." the tom jerked his head at the pirate sitting on the wheel. "That's Billy McCaw." 

Plato stood dumbfounded, his jaw hanging. The tom stared at him for a second before rolling his eyes disgustedly. 

"Oy! Yer not a mute, are ye?? Oi can't have mutes on moi ship." 

Plato jerked and closed his mouth. 

"Um, er...I mean, I'm--" 

The tom gave a sigh and slapped his forehead. Clapping a hand on Plato's shoulder, he spun the tom around and pointed at the crew. 

"You. Are. On. The. Billy. McCaw. That. There. Be. The. Crew. Savvy??" the tom said slowly, enunciating every word while making exaggerated paw gestures all the while. 

Plato couldn't help but smirk despite his confusion. "I'm not an idiot.." 

"No??" 

"No! I'm just...er...well, I didn't think pirates _existed_!" 

The tom laughed. "Oh, we're not pirates. We're a bunch of dishonest, lying tomcats who make our livings by plunderin', lootin', stealin' and generally creatin' havoc wharever we go." he said seriously. Plato raised an eyebrow.

_Alrighty then... _

"Captain Cat Morgan." the captain extended a paw and Plato shook it halfheartedly. "You'll be travelin' with us, leastways until we kin find a nice island t' strand ye on." 

At the look of horror on Plato's face, Morgan smiled genially, a few silver teeth showing through his whiskers. "Now, boy, we can't be picking up stowaways wharever we go. Least not ones so....er..._clean_, as ye be." Morgan cast a slightly disgusted glance at Plato's coat and shuddered. "Anyway, let's be movin'. I'll show you the b'low deck."

------------------------

So Plato stayed aboard the _Billy McCaw _for the next week and a half through no free will of his own. The alternative would be to haul his sorry self overboard and make for the nearest island, which he had checked via the map to be a small hundred miles away from where they now were. Morgan knew it, and made sure the tom had plenty of work to do for his time aboard, although he allowed the tom to dine with him in the evenings on occasion. On the seventh day, a small island was spotted fifty miles off the starboard side of the _McCaw_, and the decision was made to drop Plato off there before continuing on to....wherever. 

A small boat was loaded with a day's worth of supplies and water, and Plato and four other toms including Morgan started for shore. They'd have a day's rest before leaving Plato to his own devices, to put it mildly. The five toms stumbled ashore and promptly fell down, not having their 'land legs' back just yet. Morgan laughed and dragged the boat ashore, pulling a few things out of the boat and hurling them onto the beach. 

"T'night, we celebrate, laddies! Tomorrow, it's off to Lechuza! Oy...I shouldn' 'ave told ye that..." 

Within a few hours, the sun had gone down and the small company had a bonfire going, several small critters blackening to perfection over it. Plato had long since lost his appetite and looked in disgust at the animals that were slowly burning on the outside and staying raw on the inside. He and the four toms were falling down drunk, and soon a round of, ironically 'The Drunken Sailor' started up between the quintet of felines. Their voices slurred and the rum bottles emptied hours ago, one by one the toms passed out, the animals that were cooking forgotten and burned beyond recognition on the fire. 

__

Whot wouldja do with a drunken sailor, 

whot woulja do wi' a drunken sailor?? 

Whot would ye do wi' a drunken sailor, 

so early in the marnin'??

Oi knew a boy named Billy Turner, 

Oi knew a lad named William Turner, 

Something something something 

something blah blah blah blah, 

so early in the marnin'...

Plato groaned and opened his eyes to the sound of Morgan's slurred singing. The captain was stumbling around with the glass bottles in his arms, singing and more often than not forgetting the words. The sun was high in the sky and Morgan and his four mates were repacking the boat with the rum bottles and pulling the anchor aboard. Plato sat up with a start. 

"G'bye, friend! T'was fun, but I'm afeared we got no mar room on the ship! If you ever get off this pile of sand, look us up!" 

Morgan laughed as the boat headed off toward the _McCaw_. Plato yelled and threw whatever reached his paws first at the retreating rowboat. Morgan caught it and yelled something back that Plato couldn't hear with a devilish grin. However, the captain jumped up and Plato could clearly hear "Oy! Me 'at!" before the captain dove into the water. The forgotten hat sat a few feet away on the beach. Morgan came slogging back onto the beach, waterlogged but grinning his usual lopsided smirk, snatched his hat off the beach, cuffed Plato on the shoulder and retreated again, with a "see ye around, mate--if ye ever get off the oiland!" 

Plato flopped down onto his haunches in the sand. He watched as the boat was lifted back into the boat and the _Billy McCaw _started west toward Lechuza, or wherever that was. The sun beat down on his back, and before he knew it, he was asleep again, the rum still bogging his brains and the heat of the sun putting him into a coma-like sleep. When he awoke, the sun was again setting, and the _Billy McCaw _was a tiny speck on the horizon. 

---------------------

Mwahaha! Viva Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom! By the way, if you haven't seen Pirates of the Carribean yet, do! You'll bite your nails, grab the edge of your seat, and more often than not, laugh your arse off. Thanks go to 'Pirates' for inspiration for this frothy li'l fic! 

__


End file.
